All alone love-struck for a dizzy moment (Emo Week Continues!!)

It has been a very long time since I've been moved by a girl in any inexplicable way. For the greater part of this past year romance has felt like a very dead, far away thing to me, to the point that listening to swaggering love songs has reminded me of nothing more than sitting curious and bewildered in pew at an elaborate religious service conducted in a foreign another language.
Of course every now and then I've thought about what it might be like to date someone, but it's always been a very calculated business involving mostly trivial matters such as: would she tolerate my taste for punk music, would I tolerate her taste for ridiculous clothing; would she spend 70-80% of the time being cold and condescending, would she eventually go psycho, would I regret the whole business within a week, etc.
It has been a very very long time since just a conversation with a woman left me feeling so soft, airy and unable to concentrate.
And I should say that when it suddenly happened it rather caught me off guard.
I can't say that I am happy about this.
Not because of the girl -- at the moment I happen to think that she's the sweetest thing ever, which only happens when you know someone inside and out or, as is the case here, hardly at all -- but because of (well, I suppose part of it is that the girl could be [and probably is] very different from how I imagine her, but that's a digression), because of me. Because I feel rather incapable at the moment of giving my whole heart to anything, let alone another person. I'm not sure that I even have a whole heart to give, quite frankly. And I'm terrified of gathering all the pieces and trying to put it back together. Why in the world would I be terrified of that? Why would I be afraid of pulling myself together? What am I scared of?
I've always said to myself that I can't have an extraordinary woman until I have become an extraordinary man.
Hopefully, some day, that will happen.

< / emo >
The skin on the bottoms of my feet is peeling. I don't know why!

Samurai movies and leftover burritos: my life as a bachelor!

Goodness, I am tired! But I promised myself that I would write something tonight. Hang on, it's too hot to write with pants on...
Ah, thats better.
It's also too hot to write with socks on. One of the best things about clothing is that it can both go ON and come OFF! Hoorah!
Anyway, let me tell you of my evening.

There was no employee lunch served at the sushi bar today, so I had to feed myself once I got home. This could have been a problem, because contents of my food stores was such:

-One piece of bread
-Three unhealthy, very hydrogenated cookies
-One peach
-Three nearly-empty bags of potato chips
-Half a box of 99% fat free popsicles d
-Some cold cuts and pre-sliced cheese
-random, un-useful canned food.

However! The previous day, when confronted with this same dilemma I ventured down to the seedy corner strip mall that included:
-a chinese restaurant where I had colon-destroying "orange chicken"
-a Mexican market where I bought peaches for 50 cents each earlier in the week
-a laundromat
-Tacos Pepe, which I decided to get dinner that night.

I was the only person there and ordered a carnitas burrito, which was four dollars, including tax! It was a big burrito; so big that I had to return the plate that I got out to eat on that night and get a bigger one. It was so big that after eating just half of it I was too full to continue.
So I got to eat the other half for lunch today! And it was good. Too good to enjoy in solitude, actually. I had checked out the movie Yojimbo from the library, so I watched that while eating my burrito. Even though it was due today, I almost didn't watch it until I started in on the burrito and realized that burritos are enhanced greatly by early-1960s samurai movies.
Yojimbo apparently inspired A Fist Full of Dollars, one of the classic Spaghetti Westerns which are enthralling by always make me fall asleep. I've never made it all the way through one before. But Yojimbo was way better. At least, the first half-hour was. I didn't get to finish it because I had to leave to go to West Hollywood, but I was able to renew the movie online before I left, so I'll get to watch it more! hooray!

ok, this is totally boring. I'm sorry.
These other things happened:
-Drove 40 miles to West Hollywood in two hours. At one point we sat stalled at an intersection and waited through three green lights before we were able to progress. Grrr!
-Saw Ed's band (with a guest appearance by Grant) play at The Roxie for a Battle of the Bands. I yelled "Battle!!" but no one fought. Sad.
-Walked a few blocks to a pizza place that served two amazing things:
1). Gigantic 36-inch pizzas
2). A special "Aro" pizza, which I seriously had to order. I only ate half, so now I know what's for lunch tomorrow!
-Tried very hard to remember the formula for calculating the area of a circle so that I could determine how many square inches of pizza are in a gigantic 36-inch pizza. I came up with something like 1200 square inches, which seemed excessive. There were equations scrawled all over my menu before I finally gave up.
-Struck up a conversation with the couple at the table next to us about my calculations, which they were impressed by. It turns out that she was from South Africa, he from America and they had met in the Philadelphia airport, then ended up getting married! I'm not a sap, but my inner-vagabond thought that was very romantic.
-Talked to my sister via cellular phone on the way home and debated song lyrics. She was right. It turns out that there IS is a first time for everything.
-Came home, wrote very boring blog entry while listening to sea shanties.
-Slept, I guess. (This one is a prediction).

Once Again, 1/4 Life Crisis

I'm thinking of moving.
It seems that everyone I've seen lately keeps asking me when I'm going to move. Or if I'm still at my same job, if I'm still in my same place, or what is new.
I suppose these are all normal small-talk questions that people ask all the time, but I take each one as a direct accusation about the direction of my life:
Why aren't you moving? Haven't you moved yet?
I've lived in this house for almost two months now. I got back from Oregon less than a month ago. I've only been working my office job since January, and my restaurant job since sometime in October. I freaked out a bit when I realized that in less than two months it will be my one-year anniversary as a sushi bar host, but that's not an inexcusable amount of time to have a part-time job to pay the bills.
But people like to ask, "So, how's the job going?"
And so I have to answer: "The job is fine! It's normal! It's the same as always!" And perhaps I should add that I am getting better and better at doing menial labor that means nothing to me! I am learning nothing except for new ways to not care about nothing! The highlight of my day is folding napkins so that they vaguely resemble roses for place settings at the restaurant! I kid not; it's true! I have discovered that anything I attempt at my office will be eventually rendered insignificant, but that shocks and depresses me less than the continual discovery that a day can become so very, very small.
The only thing that gets me out of bed most mornings are the dreams and plans that bubble constantly from either my soul or my imagination. Are they the path to my future, or just fantasies to distract me from this stagnation?
Either way, can I stay here much longer before dreams start to feel like false hope? And how much longer after that before it becomes resignation?
I'm not sure that I want to know, but I think the transformation is starting.
And the only thing I'm more scared of than that is following my dreams and seeing them fail. No one really tells you how hard it actually is to follow your dreams. It's hard! But you've got to make a move.
And I'm thinking about moving.